The Lord Of Skulls
by BrutalAftershock
Summary: Being undead didn't take Momonga's mortal mind from him. With the end of Yggdrasil, came the end of any true human contact he would have. What will happen a former member of Ainz Ooal Gown and leader of a rival guild with the same problem emerges? How will Nazarick fare with two very different Overlords around? Set just before Lizardman Arc.


The Lord of Skulls  
Chapter 1: A long time. Undead Lords. Isolation

Momonga, the Elder Lich, Lord of the Great Tomb of Nazarick, sat upon his throne in contemplative silence. To his immediate right stood the overseer of the Floor Guardians, Albedo. Her closeness, while not truly bothersome, sometimes made his bones quiver slightly as he never quite knew when she would try to pounce on him. Down the steps from the throne, Sebas Tian the butler of Nazarick and the Pleiades battle maids knelt with their heads bowed in a row. He wasn't sure how long he had spent in the New World, but he was slowly but surely spreading the name of Ainz Ooal Gown throughout the land.

'Still haven't found any other players though.' He sighed to himself. His skeletal hand rested against his chin as his elbow sat on the arm of the throne. Even surrounded by ferociously loyal servants, each who in their own roundabout ways, responded to him as real humans would, he felt alone. He could touch them, speak to them, listen to their concerns, but deep down he knew they were not real. Not his definition of real anyway. No, for them to qualify as real, they would have to be flesh and blood in the real world. But they still acted human despite most of them being far from it.

They wouldn't ever be truly able to relate to or empathise with him. How could they? He was once a real, living, breathing person with a family and a job, though he left his family behind and his job was utter shit. They were products of people who, just like him, wanted to escape from the daily grind. Their world was servitude, never knowing of what is was like just to scrape by. They were much more powerful than he would ever be in the real world. But here they were, blissfully ignorant in their servitude.

He must have sighed audibly as Albedo was looking at him with concern on her face as she addressed him, breaking him free of his thoughts. Sebas and the Pleiades had turned their heads slightly to look to their lord.

''Is something the matter, my lord?'' Albedo asked softly. Her voice and demeanour did not fit what she was at all. A cruel she-devil in her dealings with humans and other mortal creatures, the Succubus was anything but in her service to Momonga.

''Huh? Oh, nothing. Just thinking.'' he replied. He had been doing this for some time now. It was getting to him just how alone he was, despite present company. He may have been an immortal Elder Lich, but he was human once. He needed a real human connection, and the deprivation was driving him mad. Whether it was a guild mate or not, he didn't care. He just wanted someone he could talk about the real world, his world with.

''If I may speak freely, sire. You have been somewhat distracted as of late. Is there something bothering you?'' the butler asked. Momonga sat up straight, placing his hand back on the arm of his throne.

''I am just thinking about the others. I still haven't grown used to being the only one left.'' he lied. What could he tell them? That he was lonely? They would surely find that ridiculous. They had no clue he once had a life outside of Yggdrasil. It just wasn't something he thought they could comprehend.

''While it saddens us that you are alone amongst the Supreme Beings, my lord, we are grateful you chose to remain. We have told you this.'' Sebas said as comfortingly as his baritone would allow.

Were he without the calming effect that being undead came with, he would have screamed with irritation. He didn't choose to stay here at all. But he couldn't tell them that, it would devastate them. If morale got too low because of this, there was no guarantee that they would stay. Having his servants go rogue and venture out into the world left to their own devices made him shudder. To reveal accidentally being stuck here would be cruel. He wouldn't want to find out how Albedo or Shalltear would react, as they could go either way; from crushed to crazy. He found what he thought Aura and Mare's faces would look like particularly disheartening.

The Lord of Nazarick stood from his throne. He dismissed the floor guardians and decided he wanted some much needed alone time. He went to the Mausoleum.

* * *

Carne Village, Midday

It was another day of bearing the weight of the village for Enri Emmot. The duty put upon her with the death of the last village chieftain had been incorporated as a part of her life that she took in her stride. The state of the village had vastly improved since the village was saved by Lord Ainz. The goblins were reliable, if somewhat sloppy guards. As long as they were fed and kept occupied, they kept the village safe. Her sister was doing well, but progress with Nifrea, the alchemist boy she had known for so long, was slow. His confession to her came out of nowhere, and she was still unsure of what to do about it now she knew his feelings for her. He often became a stuttering mess when she even so much as attempted to broach the subject, so she decided she would let whatever would happen, happen.

She stepped out of her home and into the sunlight. Though the sun shone in her eyes, she smiled. Seeing the people under her protection and guidance going about their business without fear of attack made her feel happy and fulfilled as the chieftain. However, whether she saw it first or the goblin guards did didn't matter. Something was on the horizon, and it was coming towards them.

The distance made it difficult to discern the scale of the person coming towards them, but she guessed they were a very tall being as they cast a very long shadow. The silhouette of the person had a multitude of spikes jutting out from the shoulders and a pair of angular horns from the figure's head. On its left arm was a large shield with thin spikes stretching vertically from the top of it. There also seemed to be a sword behind it as the hilt and end of the blade stretched over the top and bottom of the shield.

As it got closer, she could make out more details. It wore heavy armour that was black with a dark blue shimmer in the light. Its face or helmet, she couldn't tell, was a humanoid skull with pronounced canines. Its dark, hollow eye sockets were filled with only two glimmering pale green dots. Lightly rattling chains hung from its waist, while other chains criss-crossed around the armour on its forearms. Large segmented plates hung from its hips down to its knees, with black, uneven chain mail stretched between the plates level with the crotch. The spiked, bulky shoulder plates widened its form considerably, making for a more imposing figure. The dark and tattered cloak at its back seemed to reflect no light as it swayed and jumped with its wearer's steps.

It stopped at the threshold of the village gate as a group of goblins levelled their weapons at it in quivering hands. It towered over them, so much so its shadow washed over Enri. Its beady gaze seemed locked on her. Though it was a hot summer day, one of the hottest by her estimate, it suddenly felt like it was the dead of winter in its shadow.

''I would speak to the village chief.'' Two voices spoke from one throat. One was a deep, strong baritone, while the other was a sharp, hissing whisper. Enri jumped slightly at the voice. It wasn't booming or demanding, but it startled her that it was looking for her.

''Um, y-yes. T-that would be me.'' she cursed herself for the tremble in her voice. She was a leader, and she demanded of herself to speak as a leader should. ''I am the chieftain. You have business with my village?'' she asked as she approached the shadowy giant. She tracked its eyes carefully, noting how the two tiny beads in separate seas of inky black followed her with laser focus. It was silent for a moment. With no flesh upon its face, a quiet dread rose in her chest as she was unable to discern what it could be thinking.

''Unexpected.'' it said, the two voices sounded clinical in their curt observation.

''Because I'm a girl?'' she asked in a tone just as curt.

''Irrelevant.'' it said. ''I am looking for someone. Ainz Ooal Gown.'' Enri's features shifted as he said their saviour's name. A small frown creased her brow.

''Why? Who are you? What do you want with Lord Ainz?'' she questioned.

''Lord Ainz?'' the first definite change in tone stained its voice. Curiosity. Enri still felt uneasy. Something about the figure warned her to guard her answers and emotions. Having dealt with Lord Ainz, she managed to look past appearances to see the kindness and mercy behind something as grim as an Elder Lich. This thing felt different. It was an implicit terror that lingered.

''Yes. He saved our village from a group of knights that raided it. We felt it appropriate to call him such.'' she said. There was a minute turn of the thing's head, then it righted itself again.

'Well I guess I'm not alone anymore. To think it would be an old guild mate, or so the name says. I wonder who it is though? Touch Myself, Pepperoni, or maybe Mungamunga, that nerd?' he thought, mockingly recounting his former guildmates' names.

"Did he mention Nazarick, or where it might be?" It asked.

"No, he never mentioned anything like that. Neither did the person he was with." She answered.

"Person?" It persisted.

"A woman in dark armour. She carried an axe." She stopped for a moment. "You wouldn't be an old friend of Lord Ainz's would you? It's just that looking at you and what I saw of him, you might know each other."

'Making assumptions there, missy.' He thought with a laugh.

"Indeed, I know him. The other person you described, was their name by chance, Albedo?" It inquired.

"I think he said something that sounded like that when he addressed her. I'm sorry, at the time, I wasn't really listening to their conversation. I'd been wounded and trying to get my sister away from the village when Lord Ainz and that woman appeared." She explained.

"I see." The thing said. "Very well. I shall trouble you no longer. I will pass through here in peace." It continued. It's steps past the village threshold upon the dry earth were weighty. The steel clicking of joints, the small rattle of chain mail, and the metallic shifting of plates followed the entity as it strode through the village.

Once it was gone, Enri released a breath she hadn't realised she was holding. The aura of dread, the wintery cold of its shadow were gone, and the suns rays once again warmed her skin. Whoever or whatever that was, she hoped it would carry on and forget that Carne village ever existed.

* * *

Days passed since the thing passed through the village. The being in question was an Elder Lich General called Ozmiyas, the Lord of Skulls. He walked both day and night, his undead body having no need for sleep or sustenance . He has heard of the exploits of Ainz Ooal Gown. It was a name he was very familiar with. Back when everyone he knew was playing, Ainz Ooal Gown was raiding and PvPing, he and his own guild were fierce competitors with them.

Ozmiyas and Momonga formed a tenuous friendship that was fuelled by their rivalry and the rivalry of their guild mates. He made his mark as the only player to make it past Victim, though his guild had been slaughtered on the way. But before he could advance much further, he was brought low by one of the other Floor Guardians.

He missed those days. He missed his old guild mates. They were people he often spent much more time with than his own family; something he regretted in hindsight. They were people he'd celebrate countless victories with. They were the people that stood at his side as they broke records together. They were the ones that went to battle against Ainz Ooal Gown with him. Now they were gone, and he was alone in the world.

His guild, a PvP guild known as Trash-tier Magic, was none existent in the New World. After weeks of wandering, he found his guild hall, the Multiplayer Indoor Live Fighting arena, or M.I.L.F arena, was now a settlement. A settlement of things. At least they actually used the arena though, so Ozmiyas resisted the urge to slaughter them and reclaim what was his. He also made a mental note of changing the arena's name when he returned to it. The days of M.I.L.F were over. It was time to rebrand. Besides the ridiculousness of the name, it was a relic of a better time.

In turn though, Ozmiyas had no servants. None of the NPCs he and his friends created were anywhere to be found. He hopes they were still around somewhere, but perhaps they had been wiped out by the coming of the New World. He couldn't imagine they would simply allow a bunch of randomers to take the guild hall.

He wondered if Nazarick was still active as well. He may have left the guild on sour terms, but he stilled cared about the Tomb and its inhabitants. His very first NPC was there, at least she should have been unless Tabula was feeling especially spiteful and deleted her when Ozmiyas left.

He had been heading northeast since Carne Village. There wasn't much to see aside from dirt and the occasional patch of trees. But in the past couple of days, a lot of grass had come into view, along with a large hill of grass on the horizon. That's where he was going.

He had done this since coming to the New World. He wandered aimlessly with nothing to do. He had done odd jobs here and there, but the people who hired Elder Liches tended to be the desperate kind. He was feeling as grim as he looked.

As he walked, busying himself with thoughts of the past, he noticed something in a patch of tall grass. In the distance, several figures were crouched. Looking at the hill of grass, pointing and making other gestures. They looked lightly equipped, donning scale armour and chain, with bows and short swords strapped to their backs and hips. He watched them, moving as they did.

He watched them for nearly an hour as he followed their movements. They seemed to be scouts, as their light equipment and taking note of landmarks and scenery made that apparent to him. But I'd there were scouts, then a base or larger force was probably nearby. Scouts were never just sent out without nearby supply lines or a place to report back to.

He decided he was going to go and introduce himself. He needed some entertainment.

* * *

Night fell. The adventurers waited for their scouts to return, but their long absence was starting to worry them. It was a quick and simple scouting mission, in and out, done. Then again, the plains was where the Tomb of Nazarick was said to be, so could something have happen?

"What's taking them so long? They were just supposed to find us a way in, so what's the deal?" One adventure, a gold plate, whined. He anxiously checked his sword, over and over, he closely examine the edge, balanced the blade on his finger, polished it where there was no dirt.

"Something could have happened. I don't like it, but this is supposed to be where Nazarick is. There's no telling if we're gonna see those guys again." Then leader of the party, a mythril plate, said. He sat checking over the string of his bow, rubbing some pine resin on it to keep it pliable and taut.

"You think they set their monsters on 'em, Jek?" A platinum plate adventurer said. Jek looked at him with a concerned frown.

"It's possible. Problem is we don't know what comes out of there. Could be monsters, could be soldiers. We just don't know." Jek said with a sigh.

"Well I'm getting sick of waiting." The gold plate said, spitting on the ground to his side.

The fire they sat around was the only light for miles. The shadows crept and retreated from the edge of the protective light of their campfire. Protective being subjective. It staved off the dark, not the things lurking in it.

They all stood when they heard it. The screams. They sounded close. The gold plate fumbled his weapon, but firmly grasped the hilt after a couple of moments. Jek swung his great sword from the ground onto his shoulder in a stance ready to swing at whatever could come at him. The mythril plate readied his staff, spells ready to fly at a moments notice.

Silence. Not even the blowing of the wind or the rustling of the grass could be heard. They each heard each other gulp. Hearts thundered behind ribs, blood flowed to the hands and feet, breath became deep and shaken. Then the fire went out.

* * *

"My lord, I have spotted something from the southern wall." Sebas said with a deep bow. Momonga regarded him.

"Continue, Sebas." He said. Sebas nodded and stood straight.

"I saw flames coming from the plains to the southwest. There was the sound of a struggle and then screams. I think something, or someone is trespassing within Nazarick territory." He reported.

"Could be adventurers. Sebas, take the Pleiades with you and investigate. Tell me what you found when you return." Momonga ordered. Sebas bowed and left to gather the battle maids of Nazarick.

'Strange.' Momonga thought. 'Normally no one gets this close. Perhaps it really is adventurers. Wow, is this what a boss feels like when players get to the boss arena? Feels bad man.'

"Perhaps I should accompany them, Lord Ainz." Albedo said, once again taking him out of his thoughts.

"Not unless it's necessary. If it really is just a group of adventurers who got a little too far, then I believe even Sebas alone will be enough." He replied. Albedo tilted her head slightly.

"Then why send the Pleiades with him?" She asked. The red glow inside Momonga's eye sockets intensified for a moment.

"In case he isn't." He said.

* * *

Something in the darkness was watching them. It didn't move, and even if it did, tracking it was impossible as whatever it was felt like it was all around them. Then, pale flames. Pale green flames. Eye sockets blazed, the thing's armour flared to life as the seams between the plates brimmed with light and fire. The shield on its arm bore a snarling visage that belched fire from a fanged maw while the sword was drawn from it. The weapon was a titanic slab of metal that also became awash in green corpse-fire. It was the size of a man, yet one hand supported its weight easily.

"E-elder Lich." Jek whispered.

It began to move, slowly stalking towards them. Jek and his fellow adventurers held the ground as they formed a hasty formation. The thumping of armoured feet, shifting of metal plates and clicking of joints was as deafening as their own heart beats.

As it drew nearer, they noticed the heads hung at its waist. Dangling and bobbing by their hair were the heads of his missing party members. They were only silver plates trying to prove themselves worthy of gold. Their mouths gaped open in silent screams, and their eyes were rolled back and glazed.

This thing was the source of the screams. This thing had found them. This thing was going to kill them. The leader fired his bow, sending an explosive arrow screaming at the armoured fiend. His aim was true as the arrow shot into an eye socket and exploded. They shielded themselves from debris and dust with their arms, then quickly looked back at the dust cloud that engulfed their enemy.

The green flames glowed through the dust and it emerged. It never even broke stride. It was still a distance away which gave them time to try something else. Running wasn't an option, in the dark they'd only get lost and die slower.

They clutched their weapons tighter. Hair on necks and arms stood on end. In an action that was either noble sacrifice or fear-addled desperation, the gold plate adventurer rushed forward with his sword raised, screaming and yelling as he charged.

He didn't know when it happened, but he found himself in the air, his throat in a vice grip that threatened to pop his eyes from his skull. An arm of bone reached from the ground a foot away from the Elder Lich and snatched the swordsman off the ground. He found himself face to face with it, his bulging eyes met twin vortexes of pale green flame.

He couldn't utter words or scream. All he could muster were squeaks and wheezes with the bony fingers wrapped around his throat. His chest plate silently succumbed to the blade of the Elder Lich as it gently pushed through the steel. It slid through his flesh slowly and out of his back. His constricted throat only allowed for a hitch in his breath.

His sword fell to the ground with a thump on the grass next to the withered patch of ground where his killer stood. The sword withdrew from his flesh and his eyes rolled back and closed. He was dropped to the ground. The others looked on in quiet horror.

Jek wondered if he was already dead, and this is what death looked like. Was he being collected? He didn't remember dying. Had they been killed by some plains beast and not known? The white knuckle grip on his great sword threatened to let go as something very primal told him to run.

The Elder Lich erupted into flames and vanished. Blinding light and a strange lack of heat came from their left as the Lich reappeared swinging its sword. Jek rolled into the attack and the burning blade sailed over him harmlessly. Again, there was a strange lack of heat from the flames. As he stood from his roll, his turn was interrupted by the Lich's shield slamming into his back. He tumbled and sprawled to the ground. Through his dizziness, he was surprised how far he'd been flung.

His party, however, was butchered. The leader was split in half down the middle from head to crotch. The Mage of their party had his head taken clean off. Such terrifying speed had made seconds work of two very experienced adventurers.

Jek scrambled to his feet and raised his great sword once more. He knew he had no chance against it. The Elder Lich was at least level 80, while he himself was only level 38. He had nowhere to go. Carne Village was days away, and the nearest structure was Nazarick, and that was as much a death wish as facing the burning Lich.

It pointed its burning slab of edged metal at him. The flames grew smaller and dimmer. Its skull stopped spewing flames, and two small green beads of light remained inside the voids that were its eye sockets.

"Run. Spread word of the Lord of Skulls." It said, its two voices chilling him to the core. That was the Lord of Skulls? He had heard about it, but it was terrorising the borders of the Slane Theocracy last he heard.

He wasn't about to argue. He had a feeling that the Lord of Skulls wasn't in the habit of leaving survivors , so he took the chance given. But…

"Can I at least bury the remains of my party?" He asked shakily. There was silence for a long, long moment.

"No." It replied. The gleam of its eyes intensified flames spewed from its mouth. "Now leave. Do not turn back." It commanded, its two voices loudening. One voice thrummed in his chest, while the other irritated his teeth. With that said, he turned and ran.

* * *

Ozmiyas watched the adventurer run into the darkness. He didn't know if he would survive in this territory, but he didn't care. He untangled the knotted hair of his first victims from his chain belt and dropped them to the ground. Such a thing was merely effect, to wear them casually was distasteful in his eyes.

'Ugh, boring.' He thought. Nothing was a challenge.

He turned from the adventurer's retreating back and saw several forms in the distance. Nazarick's defence this time perhaps? He wanted an actual fight. He stood and waited. They were moving at quite some speed, so they were faster than humans at least.

He didn't wait for introductions, and charged, flames belching forth from his skull, armour, shield and sword.

There was only a split second to move as the being wreathed in corpse-fire smashed the ground between them, causing the Pleiades to scatter. A pillar of dust and dirt billowed up from the crater, the light from the pale flames reflecting off of the dirt particles cast an eerie glow about the field.

A rush of air blasted the debris cloud away. Sebas was already on the offensive, undaunted by the flame-wreathed form of the Lord of Skulls.

'What? Of all people, Lord Ozmiyas.' Sebas shook his head. 'No. He's no lord. He tried to usurp the throne from Lord Ainz.' While he had a moment, he looked at the Pleiades, who knew nothing of their opponent.

'Hmm. I will need to safeguard them. Ozmiyas' departure of the guild predates their creation. They have no measure of his power.' He thought.

"Pleiades, keep your distance. His physical resistance makes him nearly invulnerable to physical skills and attacks, but he is vulnerable to high-tier magic!" He called, alerting the battle maids. He really hoped his knowledge of Ozmiyas still held up.

"You know him, Sebas?" Yuri Alpha, vice captain of the Pleiades asked. It wasn't missed by anyone that Ozmiyas seemed to be biding his time as they talked between each other. It was felt by everyone present. This Elder Lich had the same heavy weight of presence that Lord Ainz did.

"Care to explain yourself, traitor?" He pointedly asked Ozmiyas.

"Before I do, I wish to test these new additions to Nazarick." Ozmiyas said. He ignored Sebas entirely and went straight for the battle maids. Swings so fast and unbefitting of the sharpened slab of metal were difficult to dodge. Narberal blasted him with lighting with no result. His stride was never broken as he swing running at Yuri and Entoma.

Yuri's agility saved her and she slammed a heavy gauntleted fist into Ozmiyas' side while Entoma jumped with powerful insect legs. The blow was nullified, and Yuri was knocked back by a retaliatory side kick.

Blows were exchanged ineffectually and counter attacks were narrowly dodged. Blocking was out of the question against Ozmias' attacks. Explosions rocked the battleground as Narberal rapidly hurled the elements at him, most being nullified by his shield.

For Sebas and the Pleiades, the thrill of battle had never been like this. Death felt like a real possibility. No one had given this to them in their service to Lord Ainz. But the fact remained they had a job to do.

"Seems like we're not getting far in stopping him." Narberal said. "Sebas, orders."

Sebas frowned. It was true that not a dent had been made so far, as expected of a Supreme Being, traitor or not. It really was foolish to try and fight one of Ainz Ooal Gown's originals.

Sebas placed a finger to his ear and spoke. "Lord Ainz, its Sebas. We require assistance."

* * *

Lord Ainz didn't know what to make of what he was hearing. Another player, here, and one of his former guild mates. Granted, it was Ozmiyas, which in itself was a shock. He thought he had left Yggdrasil behind at lest two years ago. The last time he spoke to him ewe at least four years ago, and at that time both Ainz Ooal Gown and Trash-tier Magic were dying down, and people were starting to leave the game, albeit one or two every few months.

It was troubling. Ozmiyas was a factor he hadn't counted on. In fact he hadn't formulated any counter strategies against any players since he didn't know what to expect since players were so varied.

"My Lord, what did Sebas find out there?" Albedo asked.

"It seems that one of Nazarick's old Lords as returned." He said. Albedo's smile was torn. While that should be great news, his tone didn't match.

"What's the matter?" Ainz stood and summoned his staff to his hand.

"I wonder, do you remember Ozmiyas, the Lord of Skulls?" He questioned. Albedo's expression immediately soured.

"Yes. He tried to steal the throne from you, and when that failed he took half of the guild with him to form a guild of his own." She recounted.

"Indeed. Civil war within Ainz Ooal Gown." He said.

'He almost won too.' He thought, though he knew better than to voice such a thought.

"Quickly, bring me Demiurge, Cocytus, and Shalltear. Ready yourself as well. We're going to welcome our old guild mate." His eyes gleamed viciously.

Despite who it was that had emerged, he was both excited and relieved that he was no longer completely alone amongst his servants. If he could get Ozmiyas on his side, which should be easier given the radical change in circumstances, he could spread Nazarick's influence a lot easier as he could split governance and ruling responsibilities with Ozmiyas.

"Gate!"

* * *

Lupusregina Beta should have expected as much, and she cursed herself for not doing so. Her invisibility did nothing against the flaming monster they fought as it whirled on her and smashed its snarling-faced shield into her chest as she chanced a rear attack.

She rolled and came to a stop, tenuously balancing on her heels. For nearly an hour the skirmish dragged on with neither side gaining ground. Though a feeling felt amongst the Pleiades was that should their opponent so choose, it could turn the tide and wipe them out. So then why were they bothering to fight? Why were they still here? Just to suffer? Of course, it was to defend Nazarick, but it was clear that 'defending ' was synonymous with getting toyed with in this context.

Narberal bombarded the Elder Lich with a multitude of high-tier spells, but his shield negated their damage and effects. If only they could get him to drop his shield. Sebas kept him busy in the ground, dodging, weaving and countering against Ozmiyas' swings and thrusts.

CZ2128 peppered the Supreme Being with her magically charged bullets, moving and dodging when he returned fire with sweeping crescents of green flame created by his sword swings. As a result of the skirmish, she had numerous craters to take cover in.

Yuri aided Sebas in directly combatting Ozmiyas as she leapt over and rolled under swings from both his sword and shield. Blow after blow was landed on his front and sides, but all to no effect. As demoralising as it was, as long they kept him from reaching Nazarick and gave Lord Ainz time to form a counter strategy, she would gladly die to grant him that time.

"Is this what Nazarick throws at me? An old man and misfit house maids?" The jaws of the Supreme Being opened and two-voiced laughter bellowed forth, mocking them.

"I am Ozmiyas, the Lord of Skulls!" He announced. "Witness me and tremble!" The green flames burst forth from every seam in his plate armour, turning him into a whirling inferno of corpse-fire. The swarm of chittering insects Entoma sent at him were reduced to nothing.

"We cannot fight this, Sebas." Yuri said, her usually soft and refined features were strained. Before he could reply, Ozmiyas leapt forward with his sword ready to thrust. The speed was like nothing the butler had ever seen, and so his time to react was all but gone.

The staccato ring of steel on steel hurt his ears as something had stopped the blade just before it could find its mark. Five blades were locked together over his head, shaking and clattering between the opposing forces of their wielded.

"Leave this to me, Sebas. Lord Ainz is here now." The booming voice of Cocytus said, though it was strained against the pressure Ozmiyas was exerting against him.

"You have my thanks Cocytus." Sebas said gratefully before moving from in between the two warriors and back to the Pleiades.

"I've been waiting for this rematch for years." Cocytus growled. He held a weapon in each of his four hands, all ready to slice and cut through the Lord of Skulls. He believed as long as he held his creator's weapon, the God Slaying Emperor Blade, he could cut down the rogue Supreme Being. He normally reserved the divine blade for opponents he respected, but this was a time of necessity.

"It will always end the same way, insect." Ozmiyas hissed in amusement. The blades slid away from each other as they began their lethal dance. A storm of edged metal became Cocytus as his four powerful arms swung, jabbed, and slashed in rapid succession. The exchanges between the two would be invisible to mortal eyes. The air itself was cut into warping crescents as their steel sparked and scraped against each other seeking blood. Ozmiyas' blocks were just as rapid as his attacks.

Guarded by Demiurge, Albedo, and Shalltear, Ainz watched, not yet wanting to intervene, but wanting to merely observe his fellow former human. He certainly hadn't change his appearance since he last saw him. He sure loved his flame transmogs. Joining in directly was a bad idea. Ozmiyas was a level 100 Overlord General with as much melee specialisation as Ainz had magical.

He was a pure PvP build, specifically designed for annihilating other players using any number of builds, magic included. When he was a member of Ainz Ooal Gown he was their PvP leader, PKing wherever he went. Ozmiyas cared not from where the EXP flowed. The Lord of Skulls title was one given to him by the guild and by the community at large. He had the highest player kill count of any player in his 12 years of playing.

Ainz couldn't face him with melee like he did with the scrubs he came across as an adventurer. That was suicide. Sure, part of his build had being a tank in mind, but even his defence and passive skills couldn't hold a candle to the sheer amount of physical damage Ozmiyas dished out.

His only real weakness was high-tier magic; 8th tier and over. Ainz had those and more in abundance.

The combatants were given a wide berth as they battled. Cocytus' weapons clashed and bit into Ozmiyas' shield. For some time the other servants of Nazarick thought the insectoid warrior had the Supreme Being on the defensive. That was until one of his four weapons was sent flying.

"You have gotten stronger since last time." Ozmiyas said. Though he sounded impressed, he found the improvement was only incremental. There was no great change.

He stuck the two sharp points at the bottom of his shield into the hard earth. It tilted slightly, but remained standing.

There was a tense silence, only disturbed by the clicking of metal as he placed his free hand on the hilt of his word. A piercing scream tore through the air as the metal of the blade ceased to exist and only green fire remained. The sword. The skull decorating the cross guard. It was screaming.

"You have earned this. The Skull Taker yearns to collect." He raised the weapon over his head.

"That is enough." Came the voice of Ainz. The Floor Guardians bowed despite the presence of Ozmiyas. "Lower your weapon." He ordered. Albedo watched Ozmiyas like a hawk in her dark plate armour, her battle axe raised in her lord's defence. Shalltear had her spuit lance levelled at him as she stood ready in her crimson armour. Demiurge had his hands tucked behind his back, a grin on his lips.

Out of curiosity, he lowered the burning blade and looked at his old guild mate. "So it's Momonga that remains. I don't know why, but it's oddly fitting." He said to his fellow Overlord.

"So tell me. Why should I spare any of you?" Ozmiyas' tone was deadly serious. The flames wreathed around he's blade didn't abate, casting a ghostly green glow on all around him.

The others had never seen two Supreme Beings interact like this. Their silent days had them see their creators laughing and bantering with each other. They debated and strategised. Sometimes they would bicker and disagree, but to see two beings that were like gods to them on the delicate line between civility and conflict was something else.

"You will not harm my servants, Ozmiyas. You may fight me if you wish, but I cannot guarantee your survival." Ainz challenged.

"You know that applies to you, also. Or has your lack of a challenge and servants at your heels inflated your ego?" Ozmiyas bit back.

Truly, no one was at all sure how to deal with another Supreme Being talking to their lord in such a way. Instinctually they wanted to shout him down or tear him apart. But they had the distinct impression Lord Ainz wanted to handle this himself. After all, it was one of his own kind he was talking to after so long.

"Perhaps I have let my position of absolute power dull my sense for battle a little bit. But I prefer to make willing allies than waste assets." He extended a skeletal hand, rings on each finger shimmered green with the flames.

"Join me. Join Ainz Ooal Gown once more. If for nothing else but your own gain." Ainz said.

"My own gain you say? What can you offer me that I don't already have, Momonga?" Ozmiyas asked. Though he had no face to show it, he was intensely curious.

"A place to call home." Something as simple as that rendered Ozmiyas silent. A place to call home. He hadn't called Nazarick home in a long time. None of his own guild's NPCs remained, and the same went for his guild mates. Even his guild hall wasn't his own anymore. The offer definitely struck some chord within him.

The Lord of Skulls glanced around. Momonga's servants didn't seem to appreciate the sentiment. Scowls, frowns , and malicious grins met him. Some were unreadable, like Cocytus, Entoma, and CZ, but their body language said enough. The fierce yellow glow beneath Albedo's visor was a clear sign she hated this proposition.

"What do you get out of this? I can't think of any reason you would make this offer. Didn't I try to usurp you?" Ozmiyas questioned. As much as he wanted to accept, he felt he was being baited.

"Indeed you did, and I have done to understand why. I forgave you years ago, Ozmiyas." Ainz said.

The Floor Guardians murmured amongst themselves. A traitor was forgiven? Unthinkable. What was Lord Ainz doing?

"As for what I gain. I gain a powerful ally, and someone I can truly see as my equal." Ainz continued.

"It seems you have the same issue I do then. It makes sense really, given where we came from." A quiet understanding passed between the two Supreme Beings that went over the heads of the Floor Guardians.

"Fair enough. I accept." He strode towards Momonga and gripped his robed forearm. Their shake was that of warriors. "However, if your rule displeases me, or your direction goes against my interests, I will try again." He whispered.

"I understand. Your sense of integrity will make Nazarick just that more powerful. I appreciate someone who can stick to their principles." The Lord of Nazarick said admiringly.

The battle concluded. No serious injuries were incur, though the case could have too easily been different. Ainz led all through the Gate and into the throne room of Nazarick. The glares and shifty looks didn't escape Ozmiyas, but that was to be expected. Even in his normal life such things didn't bother him, but the undead emotional suppression made it a non issue.

"Welcome to Nazarick, Lord of Skulls." Ainz paused. "Welcome home."

* * *

Profile:

Character: Ozmiyas, Lord of Skulls  
Level 100 Overlord General  
Karma: negative 50 neutral  
Hobby: Collecting Skulls is a front. His real hobby is collecting cosmetic items and transmogrifying his equipment. He doesn't remember what his current set of equipment originally looked like.

Racial level: Skeleton Warrior (15)  
Elder Lich (10) (achieved through min-maxing)  
Overlord General (5)  
Etc (10)

Job level: Sword Saint (10)  
Dark Knight (10)  
Weapon Master (5)  
Unholy Knight (5)  
Berserker (10)  
Etc (20)

Stats:

HP: 100  
MP: 60  
Physical Attack: 100 (can exceed limits due to Berserker buffs)  
Physical Defence: 95  
Agility: 85  
Magical Attack: 30  
Magical Defence: 60  
Resistance: 95  
Special Ability: 100

Total: 715+

Player Name: Arthur Vickers  
Height: 179cm  
Age: 38 (26 at Yggdrasil launch)  
Occupation: Barkeep and bar owner.

Jaded and worn by day to day life, Arthur escaped into DMMO games. He came from a time before such games, when the closest you got was running on the spot like an idiot with a VR headset. He became hooked to Yggdrasil, finding it to be everything he wanted in a game and played it from launch day. He claims not to have an addiction to buying cosmetic items and in-game fashion maxing, but he does. When called out on it, he says fashion is the true endgame.

His work allowed him a deep insight into people as he dealt with all kinds, from all places, all the time. He learned how to read people, to talk to and understand them. Eventually, he became very good at knowing how people work and learning what they want. This lead to him having very happy patrons and very effective staff, as he always appealed to their wants, needs, and goals. All while never compromising a thing. This is also how he won the hearts of half of Ainz Ooal Gown to his side to support his coup, and eventually leave to form Trash-tier Magic.

Character details: Ozmiyas was an all round character only excelling in high burst damage. At level 100, he was amongst the highest echelons of the Yggdrasil player base. He was a ruthless and feared PKer. Humans, Demi-Humans, nor Heteromorphics were spared his blade. Though he wasn't a founding member of the guild, he was among the first to join after the was the PvP leader for Ainz Ooal Gown for three years, then later he was a Raid Captain, though this rubbed him the wrong way. He noticed a much higher focus on raiding than PvP, and confronted Momonga about abandoning the guild's roots.

Before leaving Ainz Ooal Gown, his last raid was on the Great Tomb of Nazarick, where they cleared it on the first attempt. For about a year he stayed there, but there was no PvP being done, and the others were busy making NPCs. He made his own NPC just to humour them. He argued with Touch Me, Tabula Smaragdina, Ulbert Alain Odel, Nishikienrai, and Momonga until Ozmiyas finally snapped. He'd had enough. He attempted to wrest control of Ainz Ooal Gown from Momonga. Being the most optimised for killing other players, scores of guild members were all but powerless against the rampaging Lord of Skulls.

He narrowly failed. The Tomb was in ruins, NPCs and area bosses had been killed, and he and the half of the guild that sided with him were ejected from the guild and placed on Kill-On-Sight for the rest of Ainz Ooal Gown. The event would go down in guild history as the Ozmiyas Heresy.

Soon after, Trash-tier Magic was formed. It was a dedicated PvP guild that welcomed all willing to fight for Ozmiyas' amusement. Well, that only really appealed to the serious role players, but regular players still joined to fight anyway. However, after a couple of years of planning, something grand was in motion.

He knew he was a hypocrite for it, but he had planned a raid the likes of which hadn't been seen in years since the early days of Yggdrasil's life. He was going to raise his entire guild and throw them at Nazarick.

The raid ground its way through the floors, eventually reaching floor 8, where only six members of the raid remained. The Floor finished five of them off, leaving only Ozmiyas standing, who defeated Victim. Which his equipment broken, his mana depleted, consumables all used up, he got to Floor nine.

The Pleiades didn't exist at that time, so he got to the tenth floor, where found the throne room. Stepping through, he found Momonga, and before he could land an attack, Albedo cut him down.

This event also went down in Ainz Ooal Gown history. It was christened 'The Ozmiyas Heresy 2: Electric Boogaloo' by Peroroncino.

 **Hey folks, first foray into Overlord with this fic. Please let me know what you think through reviews. Fav and follow. BrutalAftershock, out.**


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